Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Obligatory Update, My Specialties

Last night fellow poet & editor of Brave Men Press approached me in the calm, low-slung manner that is unique to men who are frequently clad in plaid and said, "tell me about your specialties; you got any specialties? you must have some specialties." We were standing around, waiting for the double-bill, Michael Earl Craig and Natalie Lyalin reading to begin. I hadn't eaten more than two slices of peanut butter toast all day, though I'd been around several dozen deviled eggs and 49+ weiners all afternoon. Specialties? Yeah, I had some. A pulitzer prize winning poet scooted past us in a poncho that had the famous lines from his most famous sonnet embroidered on the back in gold thread. "Soon as the last roses shudder in November he dons that puppy." I had to hand it to this editor: he was an astute watcher of high end poets and their wardrobes. "My specialties?" I said, sidling one inch to the left to avoid a particularly obese raindrop. "I suppose my Specialty of Specialties is the Midnight Special." He was aroused by the name alone. Even his ears appeared to be wearing a flannel.

This Midnight Special appears to be situated upon a grilled cheese. A little out of the ordinary, but not in violation of the basic premise: a cheese and bread foundation with a fried egg and some sauteed shredded cabbage on top. I've done variations that include a bagel with cream cheese, ones with shredded kale that's been sauteed in bacon grease, ones with an additional layer of refried beans, and so forth and so on. One of the only crucial elements is the runny yolk. You gotta have the runny yolk. You want that yolk and that cabbage to mingle. Seep into the bread. "The Midnight Special," I said, but then I was caustically interrupted by a gruff poet in a cravat.

3 comments:

My neighbor that's from a northern suburb of Chicago, but maybe perhaps going off of what I told him about a suburb called Glen Ellyn, came to the realization after my minimal information that people from that part of the country are a bunch of horn tooters, wrapped up in themselves, and too unbeknownst to the fact that we're all just fleshy creatures going through life. They are too self aware, and to prove it, they have ruined Clen Ellyn and made it all yuppified and demolished all the stuff with character. I like the place, but the guy is right, and I'm glad I live in the entertainment capitol of the world instead. Too many people know who I am from Glen Ellyn. Often, when I realize this, it reflects upon directly and affects the outcome of my cooking and meal preparations. I plan to surpass Chef Simms and Jono someday in Glen Ellyn fashions, and using the true skills of my mouth like I am doing here. I will be defeated though when Glen Ellyn finally fades from true character like it has done already, and realize that they were the masters and that I am jus a fool that types shit all the time.

Actually the reason I frequent this site, is because it pertains to points of life that don't seem as silly to the life I have. The major point of my discussion being that I live right in the middle of Hollywood. Cool? I guess. for starters I haven't watched a movie since I visited San Diego. There is no need really, and I might as well live in a movie: my apartment manager is an old Andy Warhol film star. Everyone is famous, so they all just cancel each other out. It is not like other parts of the world, where there will just be one person that was in a commercial or something. No one even cares about anybody else because they are famous themselves and they don't listen to anybody because they are busy thinking about themselves. Anyways. Everywhere you go you hear snippets about some shoot someone took part in that afternoon. The people talk about everything like it's all a big deal, but it likely really isn't. The central Hollywood main movie theatre is right up the street from me. I don't go to it, but sometimes people will go there, and then stop by my place and tell me all about the movie they saw. People have movie days, when they make a day of it, and empty their bank account in the process, and then stop by, and in the case of Chef Simms, even occasionally "threaten" me with the concept that something was shot in 3d. It is all quite odd, and at any rate "I am all moive'd out." I think I have gotten over the fact that I don't watch them really, and just hope someday that I won't be threatened through movies and hope my apartment manager isn't famous. I guess the old days are gone, when you just watched movies about Madonna when you were sick, and now, my friends, they are just a "fact of life...."